Daily We Have What We Need to Practice Love

Dear God of Love and Justice,

On the day of Pentecost, You did something the world never expected — You poured out Your Spirit not on the powerful or the polished, but on everyone. Fishermen. Servants. Teenage daughters. Elderly grandmothers. Peter stood up with wind-burned cheeks and told the crowd that this was what the prophet Joel had promised: "Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit."

You did not wait until we were ready. You equipped us first and called us worthy second.

So today, Lord, when I pass the woman counting coins at the grocery checkout, give me eyes to see her — really see her. When my neighbor's voice cracks over the phone, let me not rush to fill the silence but sit in it with him. When the news tempts me toward despair, remind me that Your Spirit already lives in my lungs, my hands, my next conversation.